otherpoems

I’m not good at taking care of myself
but I’d make you baths filled with flowers
and I know I’d treat you well.

I don’t know how to deal with
my own emotions but I’d hold you crying
in my arms, and I’d laugh with you
till the sun rose.

I’m not good with mess,
and I hate uncertainty, but I’d clean
up your dishes and sweep up
your doubts about everything.

Maybe I’m not the best person —
I’m unsure of myself and I often think
living is so cruel that I’m not
sure if I want to keep doing it.

But if you were to grab my hand,
I wouldn’t let it go.
We could do this together.

—  take my hand // r.e.s
ALMOST IS NEVER ENOUGH

And if we were together,
That ‘we’ could’ve been 'us’
And that 'us’ could’ve been true
And not just a made up illusion of you and I.

-Almost Is Never Enough pt.2
11.14.15

End Game. By Arina Kharlamova

All family
is tragedy. Shut doors
when you need a shoulder,
and a cold shoulder
when you need some steaming tea
but yeah,
we cling on
because the sun doesn’t
show itself every day.

Everyone suffers
by themselves. In their own spaces.
In their own bodies.
There is no respite care
for when you’re still figuring out
what to feel
and how to keep living
when you already know.

When you keep smiling
at all mishaps,
you keep attracting problems.
You just need to
throw the book in the fire.
Watch it burn. Make people witness
your anger.

Send back the ashes
to the only person who held you
gently,
who suffered through your joy
alongside you.

On the package,
write the only things that really matter
in the matters of the heart
“Thank you. I’m sorry.
This is better
than I could have expected.”

Sometimes
I miss every person I have known
and lost, and I have to remember that
tomorrow, or a week or month
or year from now, I will
meet new people who will make
me forget that there was
ever anyone worth missing.

Until then,
I have to remember that
running back to the people I have lost
has never helped anything.

I may miss you but
I do not need you in my life
anymore.

—  by r.e.s
you open your eyes
and you’re in love. she’s
your best friend, but now each
hug lasts a little longer
and a kiss is not a kiss, but
‘good morning,’
‘I love you,’
‘I can’t wait to kiss you
again when I get home.’
you open your eyes
and you’re in love. she
is a hand to hold, and
the smell of freshly baked
cookies when you walk through
the door, and the day you
realised comfort was more
than just a warm bed or
a pile of blankets.
you open your eyes
and you are in love. she
keeps you reasonable
and you keep her
kind. she calms your heart
and you soothe her mind.
she opens her eyes and
she is in love.
—  she is in love // r.e.s
let’s pretend, for a
second, that this
is easy. imagine me,
letting you go
and my heart isn’t shaking
and you don’t feel
like home.
let’s pretend that this
is simple. you fall
out of love and I let
you. nothing hurts.
let’s pretend that
my body is the only
home I have, the only
home I need.
I’m not hurting
I’m not hurting
I’m not hurting.
—  pretend // r.e.s
and you find yourself crying over
someone you never loved and
probably never could’ve.
and you don’t really believe in a God
above but you wonder if you should’ve.
and you wonder if out of all of the
stars out there, there are
two that will keep you connected somewhere.
you wonder if the moon came
out tonight, just so that it could protect
your heart.
because you don’t usually miss him
when you’re far apart.
and you know you never loved him
and you don’t know if you could’ve.
but maybe when you had the chance,
you should’ve.
—  should you? // r.e.s

I say, “I’m not a nice person,”
but you just shake your head.
You tell me you never want to
hear me say that again.

You say, “Just because you’re lonely,
it doesn’t mean you’re bad,
and just because you bleed a
little too often, it doesn’t
mean that you’re mad.”

I say, “I’m not a nice person,”
but you tug on my sleeve.
You say, “Then how come you’ve
always been so goddamn
nice to me?”

—  maybe you’re right, and I was too kind // r.e.s
i think maybe the worst kind
of heartbreak happens when you
break another’s heart. i’ve
been sitting here wondering how
to tell you i don’t love you back.
and it tears me open inside out to think
that you could’ve kept it in
all this time; a part of you always
hoping i’d want you to be mine.
i know you hate it when i apologise
but i think i really should say,
that i’m sorry out of everything,
the way i feel, i can’t change.
—  an apology // r.e.s

I understand that
there is not
always space
for the lonely girl.

I understand that silence
isn’t quite as appealing
to you as the buzz of a
crowded world.

I understand that
a lot of the time
people simply forget.

I understand that
it doesn’t mean
you love me less.

I understand
that I’d be something
other than your
fourth choice next time.

I understand that
your mind doesn’t think
a lot like mine.

I understand that I’m
difficult to deal with when I
pretend that it’s
okay.

I understand that
when I become distant
you don’t know what
to say.

I understand as much
as I can, the reason
for the things you do.

I understand, at least
I try, but it’s still
hurts to feel like
nothing to you.

I understand but,
I don’t understand.

—  I Understand / I Don’t | r.e.s
i think about you and
it hurts. that’s the only way
to say it - my heart starts
to ache so much i wonder if
it’s possible for it
to truly be broken. it
always confused me how
you left so easily, but
i know i do the same. i
think about you and we were
never really anything
but we could’ve been something
great.
—  it hurts // r.e.s
i hope you love yourself so much
that you take yourself out on coffee dates
or to the loudest concerts and the funniest plays
i hope you treat yourself to cosy nights in,
that you let yourself receive the finest dining
i hope you dress yourself up every once in a while
and you can dress yourself down with a smile
i hope you wash yourself with care
and let yourself stare
at your beauty in the mirror
without worrying about getting thinner
i hope you love yourself so much
that you scream your name out into the fields
hoping everyone can hear
just how much you do
i hope you don’t get so distracted
that you forget to write yourself, too
and when you write yourself letters, telling you
about your day
i hope you don’t forget to say,
“with all my love, i hope you’re doing well”
and i hope when you write back
you can say that you are
i hope when you travel, you take yourself far
and i hope you sing duets in your own company
and you often think about your beautiful smile
i hope you feel living is worthwhile
and i hope you love yourself so much so
that when you try to leave, you beg yourself
not to go
—  I hope you love yourself | (r.e.s)
you go through it and
it’s hell, and it doesn’t stop hurting
for the longest time. sometimes
you still think about them,
maybe you hear their name,
or you see someone with hair the
exact same colour as theirs
was. and so, sometimes it hurts
still, even though it shouldn’t
anymore.
you go through it and
it’s worse than anything you’ve
ever been through,
but you survive it. you become
alive. you start to understand
what they meant when they
said that some days you will forget.
you’ll forget what they looked
like and how they sounded
and the jacket they wore every
single day. you’ll forget how
they made you feel. that will finally
feel like freedom. you’ll forget
them on those days, and it’ll feel
like truly living. some days
you won’t. you won’t be able
to get them out of your head and it’ll
feel like hell all over again.
but some days you’ll forget. those
are the days worth living for.
—  those are the days worth living for // r.e.s

1. Don’t.

2. Get away from your room. Remember that it is not a prison cell and there is a world outside of it. Go to the place you feel most at home.

3. Count to ten. Remember that it will be okay. This is just a moment in time, and every moment passes eventually.

4. Breathe. Keep breathing, steady and slow, until you don’t feel like each breath holds a world of its own. Breathe until the air around you feels like nothing more than just air.

5. Pick up the phone, and call the person who you feel most comfortable with. You don’t have to tell them that you’re shaking, or that your bones are so heavy that you wish you could just break them already, but you can if you want. Otherwise, let them distract you until you don’t shiver at the thought of facing the world again. If you have no one to call, come to me. I will love you and remind you that I do not want the world if it doesn’t have you in it.

6. Breathe. Again. And again.

7. Calm down. Pick up a pen and some paper; write, draw, doodle, sketch, paint. Do whatever it is that helps you keep your thoughts at bay. Do whatever it is that makes you feel free, even if it’s only for that moment.

8. Breathe. Keep breathing. Take a deep breath.

9. Go back to your room, breathe again, throw away the pills, the blades, the rope. Throw it away. Throw away each bad thought you have tied to these things.

10. Let yourself be sad. Let yourself cry, or scream, or curl up in a ball and pull the blankets over your head.

11. Pull yourself together, end your sadness. Remember that one day you will be able to get away from the town you have locked yourself in for your whole life so far. Remember that there are corners of the world you have yet to explore.

12. Hold on. If you need to, cry some more, scream some more, let yourself feel sad, it’s okay to feel sad. But let yourself feel happy, too. Hold on for the times you feel happy. Hold on for the good days.

13. Breathe. Don’t you dare give up. Hold on. Always, always hold on.

—  For When You Want To Kill Yourself | (r.e.s)
I’m gonna miss you. Waking you up after you turn off your alarm clock, staying up talking so late that I’m not surprised when you say you want five more minutes. Riding trains, taking photographs, sifting through vinyls in charity shops, telling you how beautiful you are even though your world is far too chaotic. I know you need your space sometimes. I’m gonna miss you and you’re going to convince yourself that this is just an extended holiday we’re taking apart, and I’m going to know that it’s not. I’m sure I’ll see you again someday, and I’ll hug you for as long as possible, and you’ll tell me how much it hurt, and I’ll tell you we don’t need to talk about it. We’re always gonna come back to each other, you and me. We’re gonna bump into each other at a service station or at Hyde Park or somewhere a thousand miles away from here. We’re always gonna love each other, and wish it didn’t have to be this way. But this is how it is. I’m gonna miss you. And you’re not even going to know you lost me.
—  i’m going to miss you // r.e.s
you spend hours making up
stories outside of your own head
and questioning whether the
universe will still love you
when you’re dead.
wondering if a name is really
nothing more than just a name.
and if you changed it
would you still be the same?
you spend days staring out of windows
and into empty streets,
wondering how the air can feel so heavy
and why your heart still beats.
wondering how a lover
can be so full of hate.
waiting for a future
that finally stops tempting fate.
—  heavy // r.e.s